


Forces of Nature

by GirlWhoWrites



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-08 19:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWhoWrites/pseuds/GirlWhoWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was powerless against the charm of Hotaru Tomoe, honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forces of Nature

**Author's Note:**

> For the Rare Ships challenge - my second choice of pairing, Jadeite/Hotaru were really interesting to write, even though I only finished two of the fics I started. There will definitely be more H/J fics simply because I worked out a whole universe for these two, and I'd like to share it.
> 
> In all flashbacks where Hotaru appears in her school uniform, she is around 17/18 (the timeline will be made more clear when I upload more fics from this series).

_Physics is the science that deals with concepts such as force._

He admits to her now that he used to watch her, and she laughs at him behind her hand, teases him that her 'Haruka-papa' better not find out because it won't matter how old she is now, Haruka will beat him brainless.

Of course, Haruka would argue that Jadeite was brainless to begin with.

She flings herself on their bed, in one of her flimsy sundresses, kicking her legs casually as she smiles teasingly at Jadeite. "You used to watch me?" she asks sweetly, amused and quite pleased.

How could he not watch her? She was… magnetic. He smiles as she stands up again, her jet black hair framing her face and bright eyes, the same colour as the heart of a pansy, like the flowers Hotaru keeps in pots on the balcony outside their bedroom. Still small, like some kind of porcelain doll, she moves like a dancer, fluid and graceful.

He was powerless against the charm of Hotaru Tomoe, honestly.

The first time she had appeared to them – the Shittenou – as Sailor Saturn, he had felt Zoicite and Nephrite tense up beside him, Zoicite's hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. Kunzite had simply straightened his shoulders, his eyes set on the petite girl holding the deadly six-foot pole arm that had featured in so many of the Silver Millennium's legends and bedtime stories.

He had simply stared; the faint lavender glow around her, the starburst crystal brooch fixed to the bow on the front of her fuku and she had not seemed frightening in the least; more like a fairy. Had there been fairies during the Silver Millennium? He didn't remember. But there was nothing threatening in the girl's eyes. Just another senshi pledged to protect the Princess.

In her school dress, she had looked different; younger, with her school bag covered in tiny badges, and weighed down with key rings. She was always smiling, always happy; he never saw her hanging over male classmates or amongst a herd of shrieking, giggling girls – Jadeite didn't remember Hotaru introducing them to a single friend. She had been at every meeting, every gathering, in her blue and white uniform and school bag slung over one shoulder.

Hotaru was so much like the concept of the Saturn power; subtle but forceful, constantly under-estimated and overlooked. Even as a schoolgirl in a booth at the Crown Parlor with an ice cream in one hand, listening to one of Minako's stories, she was mesmerizing.

He tells her that now, watching her tuck her hair behind her ear, a familiar gesture, her cheeks pink at the idea of being under such constant scrutiny. He reaches out and touches her hair and she laughs.

"You're such a sweet-talker, Jadeite. Do you practice these lines?" she teases, before twisting out of his grasp.

He doesn't bother to try to explain it to her. Hotaru's so shy, it always embarrasses her when he waxes lyrical on how beautiful she is, how she lights up a room. As she gathers her things together, leaving to meet with one of the girls, he presses a kiss to her cheek and watches her twirl out the door.

Maybe one day he can explain it to her without fumbling for the right words, or making her blush. Until then, he's happy to be dragged alongside her in her beautiful, enigmatic whirlwind that is simply and irrevocably her.


End file.
